War and Wolf
by Ghilda
Summary: Tracing the life of the child of Lawrence and Holo.  This is gonna be a long one, uploaded entirely from my jailbroken iPhone!  Updates will be at least once a week unless stated otherwise on my profile. I may adjust the rating in the future...
1. Chapter 0, Beginning

Ch:0

"What is it about fire... It's calm and beautiful, but it's pure destruction. Like humans, it's hiding something, and sometimes you have to get burned to see it"

- from TekkonKinkreet (a loose translation)

An owl was heard outside the small inn, it was an eerie noise. Through the thick black outside the window, there was a serene but awkward feel. Lawrence sat next to where Holo was sleeping on the bed with a huff. He had spent a long day negotiating with a local winery, but due to some problems with the grape crops of a few years past, the vintage he sought was way out of his price range.

"Probably for the best..." he muttered, barely audibly. There was a twitch under the linen covers.

"Mmm... What was that?" muttered a smooth but sleepy female voice. Lawrence straightened his back in surprise.

"Oh- erm, nothing... Please go back to sleep, Holo. You need your rest."

Holo peeked out from under the sheet with a defiant stare. Her ears perked and twitched to the sounds of small insects being consumed in the candle's flame. "First, tell me how it went today with the owner of the winery. Them maybe I'll consider..." Her tail shuffled a little, muffled. She relaxed as he recounted his experience to her. He smoothly, conveying little emotion, but his eyes always smiled when she looked up at them. She began to realize just how easily he could entertain her...

"Wonderful, Lawrence, but what to do about supper?" Her eyes suddenly looked hungry.

"Oh yes, I almost forgot. The innkeeper had some leftovers from a large roast that he offered for you. That is, if you're feeling up to it."

She smiled gently and rolled over on her back, letting her large belly crease the linen. She was 8 months and about to burst. Lawrence laid his hand on her stomach.

"Its been very active today" she stated, attempting to sound plain and uninterested. She was given away by a twinge of motherly softness in her tone. Her cheeks were flushed as if she had a strong fever.

Lawrence began stroking the crest of her midsection. "We still haven't talked about names, you know." He kissed her bellybutton.

"I'd prefer to see what it looks like first. I've never seen the cross of a wolf god and a human before..." Her hand sought his, pressing it tighter to her belly. With her other hand, she began twirling a lock of hair around her index finger. There was a knock at the door that seemed to unnerve the two for a split second.

"Yes?" Lawrence choked down his surprise.

"A message from the innkeep," came a masculine voice behind the door. "Rats got to the leftovers. We are very sorry to inconvenience you like this."

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They were staying in the small southern town of Lodola, built around the hills that surrounded a warm river that never froze over in the winter. The river allowed many insects to survive through the winter, providing food for the mice which until a century before were a problem species. Merchants had played into this by selling tamed owls and other birds to the owners of vineyards, and after a few generations of adaptation, the birds were taught to perch on the struts that held the grape vines. Foxes had been introduced, but were driven out due to their effect on the quality of the grapes.

Lawrence and Holo came in the winter, having made a decent deal with the selling of a wagon full of rock salt from the western ocean in the fall when farmers were killing their hogs and needed the salt to preserve meat.

The couple had been traveling together for a few years now, addicted to the thrill of merchantry. Lawrence had tried to open his own shop, but soon had grown tired of being stuck indoors for weeks on end. Shortly after giving up on the idea, Holo learned that she was pregnant and Lawrence often wondered if leaving the shop was the best idea.

"I'll head out and find something, there's bound to be a bakery open." Lawrence spun around but Holo caught his sleeve and looked him in the eyes.

"Be careful," she held his gaze. "I can't protect you if you get attacked, and I don't like the feel of the air. Something is about to happen."

Since she became with child, Holo's senses had peaked and she was even more skilled at reading not only the markets but also the emotions of other merchants. She could tell when humans were scheming from afar, merely by scenting the wind.

Lawrence nodded, understanding. He left jogging heartily down the steps. Holo sighed and drifted back to sleep.

xxxxxxx

Holo awoke sometime around midnight to Lawrence gently shaking her, he smelled like sweat.

"Holo, Holo!" He whispered urgently. "We have to leave, grab your stuff. We were followed here by someone from the last town. I don't know who it was, but he was intent enough to put a knife to my throat."

Deep down, Holo knew something that she didn't want to admit. A feeling that tore into her like a carrion crow pulling at her innards. She felt that in this game of cat and mouse, there was no hole for them to hide in.

Lawrence helped her out of the bed and into some clothes, draping her with a thick cloak to hide her stomach. As they opened the door and started down the stairs, Holo collapsed and cringed in pain. A rush of fluid hit her feet as she began to double over.

"Human bodies... Are so weak..." she whispered.

Lawrence looked at her in shock and scooped her up. Fear pulsed through his body like the blast of a fresh gunshot. He went numb and almost passed out before collecting himself and moving Holo quickly but carefully the rest of the way down the stairs. Her face was pale white now, and covered in sweat. Her legs dangled almost lifelessly as he approached the counter where the innkeep would sit and slammed down his nights rent. Outside, men could be heard shuffling around and drawing weapons, waiting for the right moment to barge in. Lawrence ran to the pathway that led to the stables, hoping that their pursuers hadn't yet learned of it's existence. To his relief, he found the door unblocked and unguarded and started quickly towards the stable. Holo leaned in close and clenched his shirt as her whole body twitched. He became possessed by a masculine instinct to protect his own and adrenaline rushed into his veins. His eyes opened in a wide, wild stare as he quickly lifted their things into the wagon and Holo onto the seat. She didn't want to let go of him, and another contraction hit her as he climbed in next to her.

He urged the horse forward with a couple sharp snaps of the reins and they peeled around onto the street so fast that the wagon's two right wheels came off the ground for a second. Lawrence saw the men begin to chase them on foot, but many turned around to get their stallions waiting a block or so down. He knew that if he could get an edge on them, he would be able to find a safe place for Holo to give birth. He wrapped his coat over her on top of the thick cloak to keep her a bit warmer in the crisp autumn air.

xxxxxx

After an hour or so of hard riding, he found a ridge next to the river that had a large outcropping of rock stretching over it. He slowed the horse to a stop and climbed out, holding Holo in his arms gingerly. Her contractions were becoming more frequent now, and the sweat on her forehead was like icewater. He walked her over to the alcove and placed her in the dead reeds, killed by a frost a few days previous. He then grasped her hands tightly and looked her in the eyes.

"You can't stay here." she whispered.

"W-what? How can you expect me to leave you? Are you mad?"

"In the wild..." she coughed pitifully, "we always drive away our mates when we give birth..." she flinched and bit into her collar as another contraction took hold of her.

He reached his hand toward hers"But Holo-"

"GO, NOW!" She smacked it away angrily and bared her teeth at him, a wild rage in her eyes behind the tears. He stared at her for a minute in surprise, but she pushed him away. He ran to the cart with tears in his eyes and the feeling that he'd done something wrong. As he climbed back in and grabbed the reins, he broke down and cried. He turned the wagon around and speeded back toward town.

Xxxxxxx

Two days later in Lodola as the sun was rising, Renault Morccio, a priest who was charged with the upkeep of an orphanage connected with the monastery, found a female child on his doorstep with honey-colored hair and silver eyes. He immediately called for mother Lucia, and the child was taken in.


	2. Chapter 1, Conspiracists

Dian Rubens sat one night in her favorite chair, holding her two year old babbling son on her lap. Lately she had been thinking about her past, perhaps that it was time to write her own stories...

Her son suddenly switched from babble to words, shaking her out of the reverie. "Mama, wotcha thinking on?"

She didn't immediately answer the boy's question. Instead, she took a few seconds to gather her thoughts. It wasn't often that she and her son actually spoke aloud. They had adopted a queer means of communication through body language and small sounds. One of the times that they did talk, however, was when she would teach him some of her favorite stories.

"Nothing, Sisyphus..." Yet she remained in thought. It had been around three years since her encounter with Lawrence and Holo. She had traced their journeys through the tales of fishermen and merchants who by chance had seen the couple from time to time. Once or twice, she even tried to search them out by flying over vast mileages of commonly traveled roads. But her efforts to contact them were futile, and she always returned hungry and unsatisfied. The arrival of her son was a pleasant yield, but cut her off from all of her resources concerning the two.

Her son Sisyphus, a demibeast, was a rather "odd bird" persay. Because of his nievety, he could not be taken into public and was very unsocialized. Being part bird as he was, he was a fast learner and could already stretch his wings and fly for short distances at a time. But his human blood held him back with the unnecessary emotions and curiosity associated with human childhood. Dian saw this as a trivial trait, but loved him all the same. Thinking on this, she ruffled his shiny black hair and began to help him preen his wings.

"You'll have to do this on your own someday, you know." her fingers worked fast, reparing his feathers as would an experienced beak. Sisyphus blushed and gave his mother a big goofy grin. As unaware as he was of the world, one thing that he did know was the pleasure of having his wings cleaned and maintained.

After his mother had finished, she led him to the window. "What would you like to have for supper tonight?"

Sisyphus put his finger to his bottom lip and nibbled it for a while. He then responded with an excited smile.

"TOMATOES! And maybe some salted pork!"

Dian chuckled and stepped onto the large windowsill. Before she set off, she gave her son one last look, telling him to stay in the house and to not make too much noise. He sat obediently in her chair and picked up one of her books. She opened her great wings and dropped from the window and out of view. Only a shadow could be seen floating amongst the clouds, a silver silouhette in the moonlight.

Sisyphus leaned forward and grabbed his feet, ruffling his dark wings. He was hungry, but his mind was hungrier and he flipped open the book to where he left off.

He read aloud: "Yoitsu and the Moon- Hunting Bear"

xxxxxx

The monastery was cold and dark, made eerie by the echoing cries of the newest addition to the orphanage wing. Mother Lucia held the child close to chest as she awaited the arrival of the wet nurse. Other nuns awakened by the noise giggled and sneered at her, but they were met only with a cold shoulder. After a few minutes of swaying the baby back and forth, the wet nurse was at her side. Wordlessly, she handed the baby over and the crying stopped as it began to feed.

Renault signaled to Lucia and they walked out of the nursery together. Renault seemed to have a concerned look on his exaggeratedly pointed face. As they approached the hallway that led to their quarters, Lucia spoke to break the silence.

"She is a beautiful child." she stated plainly.

"I have made arrangements for her to be christened..." Renault replied. "But, there is something else I must talk to you about."

Lucia didn't expect much from the conversation, rarely did anything of true interest happen in their small corner of the world, as small of an outpost from the church as they were. But at the same time, she caught a sense of urgency in his tone.

He cleared his throat. "Raoulos' men apprehended a suspicious character last night, they had followed this man from Nacrin a few nights ago."

"What is so suspicious about this one?" Lucia was a tough and cynical woman, and knew that Raoulos would do anything to get money. Furthermore, there was often no way to question his prisoners. Raoulos often tortured his prisoners, mutilating them either until death or until they wished they were dead. She could not hold respect for a heartless and brutal drunkard like him.

"It was said that he made underhanded deals with alchemists and other satanic ilk." Renault held his sharpky pointed nose in the air, as if turning away from something rotten and decaying. As proud and committed to the church as he was, he kept his own little black book in his heart that his brother Raoulos had unrestricted access to. With the funding of the church, he could dispose of anyone he wished.

Lucia was often none the wiser to his schemes, but she could tell that all was not right in the ranks of the church. She didn't like his uppity attitude, didn't think that it was proper for him to continue to associate with his sinful, unchristened brother.

"What is the price this time?" She asked with a huff.

"It seems that this time, he's given us a choice... Dead or alive?"

A flock of doves dramatically flew off the rafters and through a broken window far above. The noise made Lucia jump, and from that moment set an ill feeling in her gut. She said her goodnights to Renault, and went to her cell to pray. Tears flowed from her eyes for reasons she did not know.


	3. Chapter 2, Departure

Raoulos's gang sat around the table at the abandoned innhouse, some playing card games, others throwing back cups of fiery drinks. They were a rather uncouth looking bunch, they rarely shaved or bathed and most were missing six or seven teeth. Between spouts of hoarse laughter, yells of fury would occasionally rise over the din as one man was accused of cheating, another of stealing a coin or other valuable. Raoulos could only sit and smile as he watched it all happen. He had created quite an empire off of these empty sinners, and knew that if one turned against the group, they could easily be apprehended and reported to the church. In escence, the group was the only safe place for criminals and murderers.

One new member in particular piqued Raoulos's interest. A young boy, barely below marrying age who went by the name of Trippio, someone he had picked up on a previous trip to Lodola. He had first presented himself as a helpless orphan, seeking a nights refuge. In one night, he ransacked the entire hideout, carrying off anything of value, but didn't make it far down the alley due to the weight of his loot compared to his own size. Raoulos, despite being fiercely impressed, beat the boy till he spat blood and allowed other members repay him with their feet and fists. He had ended the confrontation with "Do that again and you're dead" but he held out a hand to the boy and the gang cheered. Even simple men like these could see the advantages of having a kid like Trippio on their side. As the months passed, he had more than proved his worth through his heists; he stole on a level that could only be matched with the most technical professions, such as an apotheke mixing precise herbs for a remedy. Not a drop of sweat, not even a fingernail clipping out of place.

His ability to hide behind his orphan facade, while waning with every passing year, could still get him very interesting information and he often tipped off the gang to suspicious and therefore possibly worthwhile bystanders. He had recently picked out a merchant said to be accompanied by the devil himself, and was also said to have dealings with alchemists in multiple towns. This man was sold to the church for 400 Trinny silver coins, now beginning to rise in value due to the dropping purity of other silvers. Trippio of course demanded half of the coins for his own private use, which was gladly obliged by the others.

That very night, they were celebrating the transaction, but something didn't sit right with the olive skinned thief prince. His long black hair drooped over his mead, with a few locks eventually shifting to fall into the cup, where they rested on the surface of the amber drink. His eyes could not be seen, but his mouth portrayed a stern countenance that created the illusion of a grown man under the weight of the world. The rabble surrounding him paid him almost nomind, save for the occasional slap on the back, which of course knocked only more of his hair into his drink. Yet the stern boy held himself in the same odd manner.

The truth behind his seriousness was the fact that he had not slept in 4 days, since the night of the hunt- and- capture rally. He was sure that he had seen another person on the cart with the merchant the multiple times that he stalked him, yet when the man rushed towards them as if to attack, he was alone. His mind swam in the possibilities, a whore, a business partner, maybe even a hitch hiker. But if the tales were true, it could mean that this mysterious person could bring even more money than the merchant.

He finally sat up and took a drink out of his cup. His mouth puckered slightly at the bitterness, and he almost spat it back out. Most of the men were getting too drunk to move by this time, and he decided to retire to his chambers for another sleepless night.

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On the outskirts of Lodola, Holo slept in wolf form under a copse of willow- esque pines. After leaving her child at (as much as she hated it) the church, she had grabbed most of the remaining wheat out of the bag around her neck and transformed in order to leave the town in the quickest way possible. She was still covered in her own blood, and slept through most of each day, only waking to stretch her stiff muscles. She was dying, and she could feel her insides fester in the heat of the sun. Days passed and she was not recovering, only getting worse. She would think about her beautiful baby whom she refused to kill, despite her instincts; she thought about Lawrence...

"Oh Lawrence..." her big eyes fluttered like alighting butterflies, holding back her tears. She could only hope he was still alive, even though she doubted it strongly. Her hope was fading as fast as her health.

Her body became just more weight for her to carry. Her fever dreams narrowed into one fixed proposition, and her waking thoughts gradually aligned. With the last of her strength she took the almost empty pouch into her mouth, thought of Lawrence, and swallowed. As of that moment, Holo the Wise Wolf was no more.


	4. Chapter 3, Progression

Mother Lucia held the baby girl loosely against her chest, her a little. The little one was calm and cooing in her arms. Next to Lucia stood Renault, amongst a few of the elder members of the church. In front of them was a small bronze basin filled with clean water, and a great amount of the congregation sat in the benches, while still more were flooding. This was one of the largest gatherings the church had seen for a baptism, and many of the people there had come to see the mysterious and beautiful child. While Lucia was dressing her in a small white dress that looked like a nightgown, women of all ages stood around the girl and gave their ooooh's and ahhh's. Lucia smacked away many probing hands and fingers. Of course, the youngest women and newlyweds were the ones that most excited by the child's beauty, and they had all brought their husbands and fiancées trying to inspire them to perhaps have children of their own.

It had been three months since they had found the baby on the doorstep, and the she was roughly the right age for christening, as approved of by Renault and the elders. Newborns were not immediately named by the church, as often times some would not survive beyond the first month, and this was interpreted as an act of God, his way of saying that it was not yet time for the child to live in the world. This girl was very healthy; she fed well, and showed no signs of colic or jaundice. It was on these facts that the elders made the decision to bring her into the church and give her a name.

There was a hush over the chatty women in the croud as the organ fired sharp, steely notes into the air. Renault stepped in front of the basin and began to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the church, tonight we come together to accept this beautiful little girl into God's domain, to stand beside her and teach her God's good word." The croud all made the sign of the cross on their chest and mimicked some words. After the call and response came a few hymns, and then the organ and the croud quieted, save for the shifting of the eager women. Renault took the squirming baby out of Lucia's arms and laid her in the basin, dipping his fists into the water and sprinkling some of it on her forehead. The baby flinched, and Renault finished the session.

"Maria, we welcome you to our congregation. May God bless you on your path through life." He beckoned to the elders, and they obliged by approaching the child and blessing her, each in turn. The organs screeched again and those in the croud approached and offered their blessings before filing out of the cathedral. Maria was then removed from the basin and wrapped in warm blankets.

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Deep underneath the church, Lawrence could hear and see nothing, but he needed neither his sight nor hearing to tell how disfigured he was. He raised his shackled hands to his face, and felt the scars gingerly. His clothes were in scrapes, his torn shirt showed a deep slash on his side that still pained him when he tried to lay down. His hands and feet were covered in scrapes, his leg was broken and healing in a bad position, part of his ear was torn off. But inside his heart, he was torn thousands of times worse. When he was asleep, he dreamt of Holo, and of times before her. He could see her beautiful hair streaming in the wind the night he met her, her eyes were shining brightly. But even in his dreams, he knew she wasn't really with him, and as they would embrace he would awaken. His waking hours were spent in mind numbing silence, save for the bowl of gruel that was given to him each day, which he adamantly refused to eat. He had lost all reasons to eat, to go on living.

Suddenly there was a clang and he heard his cell door open. A blinding light flooded into his room. A voice said, "Get up, you're coming with me."

xxxxxx

On the ground floor, Trippio stood expectantly with two sizable men in a large dark room with a table and multiple chairs, all lit by a single lamp. Renault was in front of them, holding a book and an iron key. He gestured for the three to sit down, and they did. Each person hid well any emotion that they could have possibly been feeling. They all sat for a few moments without speaking, until the heavy door of the room creaked open and the prisoner was thrown in.

Lawrence landed on his leg and cried out in pain as he slumped to the ground, his hands were now shackled behind his back. Trippio rose with a superior air, and approached Lawrence.

"Where is she?" he said calmly, staring Lawrence down.

"Who-" he started but was cut off by a sharp kick to his hurt side.

"You know better than any of us, where is this she-devil?" he screamed at Lawrence so loudly that it made both persons' ears ring. Lawrence's mind shot back to Holo, and he swooned and slumped to the floor, passed out from not having eaten in the past couple of days. Trippio kicked him a few more times before deciding that it was futile. But he did stoop to grab Lawrence by his shirt and shake him.

"I will  find her." He threatened the unresponsive Lawrence before practically throwing him to the ground. He stormed out of the room, followed by the two others, but Renault stayed behind to heap Lawrence over his shoulder. He blew out the lamp and carried him from the room like a piece of luggage. Shortly after exiting, he spied mother Lucia feeding Maria with a bottle and stopped to discuss the incident with her. Lawrence, still slumped on his shoulder, was slightly conscious now but could not make out their words. Just before he fainted again, Renault began walking past Lucia, who was now burping Maria over her shoulder. Lawrence looked up at the child's face, and did nothing but stare in astonishment. He recognized Holo's eyes, her mouth. His daughter was alive, and safe even if in the hands of his captors. Lawrence did not faint again, but instead slept with the feeling that for the first time in the past few months, part of heart was still with him.


End file.
